


you flashed and now you're gone, and i'm meant to move on

by gerskier



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, First Kiss, Fix-It, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, not edited we die like witchers, the obligatory fix-it fic yknow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22363705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gerskier/pseuds/gerskier
Summary: When the words fell from Geralt's lips, Jaskier forced himself to hold back a flinch. He expected Geralt's face to melt into guilt and regret.Instead, it stayed the angriest Jaskier had ever seen it. The Witcher whipped back around, staring across the mountain range. Jaskier's eyes flitted from the ground to Geralt's back, waiting to see if the latter would apologize or continue his angry spiel.However, he did neither.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 12
Kudos: 561





	you flashed and now you're gone, and i'm meant to move on

**Author's Note:**

> title from "away with the best of the rest of the year" by bears in trees! i haven't written in like a year please bear with me

When the words fell from Geralt's lips, Jaskier forced himself to hold back a flinch. He expected Geralt's face to melt into guilt and regret.

Instead, it stayed the angriest Jaskier had ever seen it. The Witcher whipped back around, staring across the mountain range. Jaskier's eyes flitted from the ground to Geralt's back, waiting to see if the latter would apologize or continue his angry spiel.

However, he did neither. 

"Right, uh...." Jaskier pursed his lips. "Right, then. I'll go get the rest of the story from the others."

He faltered for a moment, biting his tongue so as to not say what he wished he could.

_I'm sorry._

_Don't blame this on me._

_Fuck you._

_You're going to drop me, just like that? After all the years we spent together? All the years I took care of you, patched you up, helped you find a warm bed to sleep in so we wouldn't have to stay out in the forests, awaiting danger?_

He said none of it. 

"See you around, Geralt," is what came out. Any man could hear the tense tone that crept up as he said the Witcher's name. He hesitated, then turned and began walking away. 

Jaskier waited until—at least, he hoped—he was out of earshot before letting the tears fall. A few hiccups came with it and he dug his hand into the bark of a tree, possible splinters the last thing on his mind. He covered his mouth with his free hand and shut his eyes tightly.

He and Geralt were never friends. The Witcher made it a point to remind him of that nearly every single day. Yet, for some damn reason, Jaskier continued chasing the belief that they were, and Geralt's stubbornness was the cause for the man's words. Now, he knew the truth.

"Get yourself together," he snapped at himself. Pushing away from the tree, he wiped at his hands and trudged onward toward their makeshift camp. He blinked away the rest of his tears and dried his face on his tunic.

Not that it mattered, of course, because the remaining members of the group didn't even acknowledge him. He wasn't surprised by that in the slightest and was determined to not let it bother him. He hid inside his tent and munched on a loaf of bread for dinner, drowning out the sounds of the others.

Once he finished, he packed up his few items in his tent. He'd borrowed it from the dwarves and didn't really want them to become angry at him and hunt him down if he took it.

Slinging his lute over his shoulder, he pushed open the flaps of the tent and glanced around. Geralt's tent still stood but he was nowhere to be seen. That was no surprise to Jaskier; in fact, it made him relieved. He wouldn't have to deal with any confrontation.

Yennefer was also not there, Jaskier noticed as he passed by its former spot. He prayed to every god out there that they wouldn't run into each other. It was bad enough dealing with her when Geralt was around, but alone? Jaskier had no idea if he'd make it out alive.

The dwarves didn't even glance his way as he silently walked back the way they came. Of course, he refused to walk the path said dwarves took them on. The sun was halfway covered by the trees and mountains, meaning night was coming soon. Monsters would be roaming and Jaskier had no weapon. Nor tent, though he did have his bedroll.

When the sky was more dark blue than orange and pink, Jaskier picked an open spot in the forest and started gathering sticks for a fire. It took him several tries before the damn thing lit up. He sighed with relief and rolled out his bedroll, bringing it close to the fire. The air was cold and he could see his breath if he focused hard enough.

What was he to do now? His only friend ( _not your friend,_ Geralt said in his head) abandoned him, leaving him alone in the woods with gods knows what out there. He could travel from city to city, town to town, continuing his singing career.

If the crowd asked for a song about Geralt, would he sing it? Would he politely deny the request?

Jaskier tugged his light blanket closer as he shivered on the forest floor. Figuring out his future could wait until the morning. For now, he needed to rest.

– – –

Six months.

It had been six months since the last time Jaskier laid eyes on Geralt.

Gods, it hurt to even think about the man who snapped at him on the mountain, who made him feel like utter shit. Who never even bothered apologizing, or coming to find him.

Jaskier knew that if the Witcher said those two words— _I'm sorry_ —he would forgive him in an instant. Everything would go back to the way it was, with him following Geralt like a lost puppy, composing new songs during every one of their adventures, annoying the shit out of him...

_Falling more and more in love with him._

Jaskier shook his head quickly and downed the rest of his ale. He'd spent his night performing in front of a surprisingly reactive crowd, earning enough money to last him at max a week. No one said anything about the lack of songs about the white-haired witcher, which made Jaskier sigh in relief when he finished to loud applause.

Just as he was about to retire to his rented room, the door of the tavern banged open and in came the last man Jaskier wanted to see.

"Fuck," he mumbled to himself, turning away from the door. He begged every god and goddess, every deity out there to not let Geralt see him. 

The tavern went silent as all eyes darted to the Witcher. He didn't bother looking around the tavern, instead heading straight to the barkeep. There was a muffled conversation and the sound of a pouch of coins trading hands.

"Go back to yer ale!" the barkeep shouted, and the tavern immediately broke out in its usual noise.

Jaskier could hear heavy footsteps coming toward him and he knew his praying failed. With a loud sigh, he turned his head back and faced the tall man standing at the edge of the table.

"What do you want, _Witcher?"_ he bit out. 

There was an almost-visible flinch on Geralt's face. He easily collected himself and stared down the bard.

"I've been looking for you—"

"Oh, have you, now? Must've done a pretty shitty job of it, since it's been six fucking months."

Jaskier rolled his eyes and raised his tankard, silently asking for more. The barkeep came over to refill it and Jaskier pressed a coin in his hand.

"I'll ask again," he said after chugging half the ale. "What do you want?"

"To apologize," Geralt said immediately.

Jaskier barked out a laugh, throwing his head back. "Really? What, did it take you six months to realize, 'Hey. I'm a piece of shit. Maybe I should apologize to the bard who spent _ten years of his life_ with me!'"

Maybe he wouldn't accept the apology in an instant after all, or maybe he just needed to get everything off his chest. Drunk him was a lot worse than sober him when it came to his loose tongue.

"Jaskier."

"No, no! I'm not done yet! You don't get to march in here and randomly apologize. You should've done that back on the mountain!"

Geralt's hand shot out faster than Jaskier's eyes could catch up with it. He hauled the bard off the bench and dragged him, kicking and yelling, outside. The tavern-goers looked away after a glare from the Witcher.

"What the fuck, Geralt!" Jaskier said when they stopped at the back of the tavern. "Get your hands off me!" He slapped and punched at the other man.

Geralt ignored his words, shoving him against the wall of the tavern. "You're drunk, Jaskier."

"No shit!"

Deciding he'd had enough, he covered Jaskier's mouth with a large hand. The bard shut up instantly, his eyes wide.

"Just listen to me, okay?"

He waited for Jaskier to nod before speaking again. "I'm sorry." His voice was uncharacteristically quiet. "I shouldn't have snapped at you; you didn't deserve it. There's no reason why I did that.

"You don't have to forgive me, Jaskier. I've been beating myself up over what I did ever since you left. I...I didn't know how to face you at first. I was going to talk to you when I reached the camp, but the dwarves said you'd already left. For months I searched for you, asking barkeeps and farmers and everyone I could where you were."

Geralt seemed to shrink inside himself. His mouth opened and closed, trying to figure out his next words. Luckily, he didn't have to: Jaskier carefully pulled the Witcher's hand away from his mouth.

"We really are idiots, aren't we?"

Geralt went to raise an eyebrow, but Jaskier had grabbed the sides of his face and leaned in for a kiss. Geralt met him halfway, snaking a hand around his waist to pull him closer. His free hand drifted up to Jaskier's hair and tangled itself in the locks that felt like silk.

They had to break away too quick for Jaskier's liking, but Geralt nosed his cheek and down to his throat. Jaskier felt his breathing stop as the Witcher pressed a kiss to his pulse point.

"Breathe, Jaskier," he murmured.

"Right, yeah." Jaskier took a deep breath. "That'd be a very good idea, wouldn't it?"

He felt Geralt's small chuckle as he pulled away to look the bard in the eye. "I'm sorry."

"I am, too."

"For what?"

Jaskier shrugged. "Yelling at you, annoying you, following you, doing everything I did the past ten years."

"I'm glad you didn't give up on me." Geralt gave him a genuine smile—one that Jaskier sought to memorize.

They kissed once more, this time soft and closed-lipped. The kiss was full of the feelings of ten years; love, heartbreak, longing. It only ended when Jaskier pushed him away, took his hand, and led him up to the room he'd rented.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are always welcome! thank you for reading!!  
> (feel free to give me any critiques you may have!)


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